


Dry Lightening

by thattardiskey



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:35:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thattardiskey/pseuds/thattardiskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something about a diner in the middle of the desert that is otherworldly and something about the blond with a motorcycle that is mysteriously ethereal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

It starts like this: a tall blond climbs off a motorcycle. He looks every bit as perfect as Bard never did, untouched by the desert dust that creeps into everything Bard owns.

It ends like this: unknown, but probably under the big bowl of a sky that Thranduil will never quite get used to.

—

Bard doesn’t remember the exact day that everything changed. At the time, he didn’t know that that specific motorcycle roar was any more important than the weird whining sound the a/c had started to make.

He remembers the bell chime though. He remembers the tell-tale sign of a customer and the leather jacket and the helmet tucked under a long arm.

(Later, Thranduil would say that the first thing he noticed was the stained apron, worn t-shirt and the smile.)

“Hi, I’ll be with you in just a second. Take a seat wherever you like.” He doesn’t remember this, but he must have said it. It was like reading off a script, or being a broken record. He said it to all his customers. Even the ones that he saw often enough that a simple “Hi” would suffice.

“Of course.” Thranduil probably replied.

The dining room was empty, as it typically was at 3 pm. The few regulars and transients would start to wander in at 5:30. The only things occupying the room were the barbie dolls and doll house by the kitchen and sketch pads taking up two tables tucked in the corner.

Thranduil debated between the seat next to the a/c but in the light of the hot sun, and the seat farther away but strategically tucked in the shade. He choose the shade.

Bard appeared moments later. An order pad in one hand and a pen with most of the writing worn off declaring “ D LIQUO ND SPIRITS” in the other. Thranduil ordered a glass of ice water and by the time it was brought out, had decided on his order.

“My daughter’s in the kitchen today, you’ll have to let me know how you like the meatloaf.” Bard said while he finished writing the order. “She’s trying a new recipe.”

Thranduil thought of the barbie dolls nervously. “Of course,” he replied.

Thranduil watched the faded streams on the air conditioner and fiddled with the sugar packets at the table while he waited for his meal. Occasionally, he would palm at his pant’s pocket before coming up to the table again, looking slightly more lost than he did before. He tapped at the formica with his fingernails.

Upon hearing footsteps, Thranduil looked up. It was not the waiter from before. Instead, it was a teenager. She had his meal. After she sat it down, she looked at him. It was a long searching gaze that had him feeling the beginnings of discomfort settling in his stomach. She squinted for a moment and it was like a switch flipped. She smiled, large and practiced.

“Let me know whatcha think of the meatloaf and cornbread. I’m tryin’ a few new ideas out.” She tapped on the edge of the table a few times and turned around and left.

Thranduil paid in exact change and left a $3.00 tip under a glass of water that had been refiled 4 times.

That was Day 1.


	2. Day 2

Thranduil walks into a worn down diner. He is wearing jeans instead of riding pants. He keeps on fingerless gloves for his entire meal. 

“Huh.” Bard says, mostly to himself, “I thought you were just a passer through.” He takes his order. 

“I am.” Thranduil replies.

He pays in exact change and leaves a tip under a frosty glass of coke. 

This is Day 2


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3, enter Tilda

Thranduil arrives at 3 pm on the dot. There are no other customers. He's never seen another customer in the diner. 5 minutes later a young girl with overalls and a dusting of freckles come in, talking to her cupped hands. Bard, upon seeing, sends her back outside.

“But she needs my help.” Thranduil hears her object. “She says she's thirsty.”

“She’ll be just fine, Tilda. Desert mice are good at finding water.”

“Da!”

“Fine, I’ll bring out some water for her. Just take her outside. You know the rules.”

“Yes, Da.”

Bard brings Thranduil out a slice of blueberry pie later.

“I didn’t order any pie.”

“I know. On the house.”

“Oh. Well… Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

At some point in time, Bard says, “I thought you were just passing through.”

“I am.”

Thranduil pays in exact change and leaves a tip under the bowl his pie was served in.

That was Day 3.


	4. Day 4

Nothing interesting happens. A boy spends his time drawing in the corner. From the glimpses Thranduil sees, he is talented for his age, which can be no more than 12.

Goosebumps cover his arms until they become splotchy and then clear at his wrist after catching a glimpse of a drawing of a twisted crashed motorcycle. 

“So you’re just passin’ through.”

“I am”

This is Day 4.


	5. Chapter 5

The restaurant is busier than it normally is when Thranduil comes in. For the first time, there are few other customers. He sits up at the bar counter instead of his usual table. The entire affair sets him slightly off balance. 

Bard takes his order, but appears to be manning the grill and kitchen. The waitress from his first day introduces herself as Sigrid and spends a disproportionate amount of time gossiping to him in low tones. She occasionally pops her gum in the middle of conversation.

“And them two over there,” she points discreetly, Thranduil looks over out of politeness, they are at his table, “they’re sleepin’ together. Just a one time thing. She’s his boss.”

Thranduil gives a listening hum. Her chatter doesn’t bother him anymore than the oddness of sitting at the bar.

“She’s got money. That’s why he’s doin’ it.” She gives a flourishing hand motion and stops talking for a moment. Sigrid gives an impish smile. “Dad!” She hollers back to him.

Bard comes walking out, wiping his hands on a rag, just in time to see the couple start arguing. They make wide hand motions and stand up, crashing their chairs behind them.

Bard breaks it up and asks them to leave. They don’t pay, but with them goes some of the tension that hung in the diner. It’s almost worth it. Some of the oddness leaves, but Thranduil stays at the bar.

“Damn tourist. Got no respect.” He mutters, going back into the kitchen.

This is the first time Thranduil thinks this diner might be a bit odd.

Bard smiles and apologizes for the couple as Thranduil leaves.

This is Day 5. This is the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of Bard/Thranduil interaction. It'll make sense later.


	6. Day 6

The diner is closed on Sundays, in the way that the neon open sign stays off and Bain doesn’t put out the battered flag that bares the same word. However, if someone were to come around anyway, they would be served. The restaurant connects to the house through the kitchen.

Thranduil shows up close to dinner time, hours off from his typical 3 pm. He had just tried the door, locked, and was walking away when Bard rushed across the dining room. He opened the door and called out. After a bit of insistent prodding, Thranduil stays.

“I hope you don’t mind joining us for dinner. I don’t have the grill turned on, just some chicken and dumplings going.”

“It’s fine, really. I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re fine. Everything ought to be ready in 15 minutes, if you’re willing to wait.”

15 minutes later, dinner is served. Thranduil sat in a far corner, only to be convinced into sitting with Bard and his family at one of the larger tables in the middle. It is designed for 6 people, although 8 could be cramped in by putting seats on each end. It is plenty for the 5 of them.

“So, I don’t think I ever got your name.” Bard says after scooping food onto Tilda’s plate. “Did you ever get our names?”

Thranduil paused for a moment, thinking. He couldn't quite find a correct answer.

Sigrid cleared her throat. “His name is Thranduil.” She took a bite and went quiet.

Thranduil shifted in his seat. He’d planned on going with something simple and forgettable, like John or Jason.

Bain looked up from his food to give Sigrid a look Thranduil couldn’t read.

“I don’t know your names.” Thranduil replied.

“Well, I’m Bard.” He gestured to himself, “This is my youngest, Tilda,” he pointed to her. “This is Bain,” he points to his son, “and I believe you know Sigrid.” He motioned to her anyway.

“It’s lovely to meet all of you.”

They make small talk for the rest of the evening. Thranduil learns that Bard started and built up the restaurant himself. He loves the work. Thranduil mentions a son, but does not give a name for him. From then on he pointedly avoids talking about himself.

Bard refuses to let Thranduil pay.

This is Day 6.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise stuff starts happening soon!


	7. The Days They Pass

Days pass. Thranduil comes in every day, even on Sundays. Sometimes, Bard sits down with him. They talk, but it is never about anything important, typically the weather. Bard talks mostly about his kids and Thranduil is entranced by how proud he is of them. 

(Thranduil wonders about his son too)

Eventually, Bard stops mentioning that Thranduil is passing through, and simply wonders what he does with his days.


	8. Chapter 8

It is Tuesday, the one day that Bard never has been able to sit down and talk. Sigrid isn’t working, Tuesdays she has class. She is taking classes at the local community college to become an RN and her in-person classes are Tuesday and Thursday. After she will pick up Bain and Tilda from school. That leaves Bard alone in to get everything ready.

On this particular Tuesday he has finished early. So, he grabs a cup of coffee and sits down across from Thranduil.

“There is supposed to be a meteor shower tonight,” Bard starts off, “are you going to watch it?”

“I’d love too,” Thranduil says before taking a bite of his food, “any recommendations on where?"

“The roof is where I always go,” he paused for a beat, “you’re welcome to join me.”

“That sounds good,” Thranduil replied.

This is Day 22.


	9. Meteor Shower (Day 23)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night Bard and Thranduil watch the meteor shower.

Thranduil arrived at 12:01 am. It had cooled down, but he was still dressed in the same jeans and leather jacket. The meteor shower had already started. Bard asked how his day was and received a “fine.” He wondered again what Thranduil did with his days but didn’t ask. He knew it was none of his business.

They climbed to the roof in silence and they sat in silence. The stars too awe inspiring to speak. 

As the meteors calmed down, they started to chat. 

“So, how are your children?” Thranduil asked, still staring up.

“They are good.” Bard replied in kind, “Bain aced his spelling bee. Sigrid is freaking out about her midterms. The usual business. How is your son?”

“I don’t know,” Thranduil said, aiming for a certain nonchalantness.

“Oh…I’m sorry for asking.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t remember anything.” Thranduil said, Bard immediately rolled to his side to look at Thranduil, “I woke up one day in a cheap hotel room with no memory. No ID. Just some money and a motorcycle.”

Bard’s mind was swimming with questions and worries. Who was this man that he had more or less accepted into his life for the last month? Was he dangerous? Deranged?

“I went to the hospital of course,” Thranduil said. Bard calmed down a bit. “They checked me over. Aside from the memory loss I’m fine. I signed out.” He didn't mention the scar. 

Bard had a lot of questions that he knew better than to ask. Such an admission was huge, he knew better than to ask even more. Despite his keeping to himself he still wondered things like How did you get here? Why did you stay? Shouldn’t you be working on your memory? 

“Oh, well…Thank you for telling me. It must have taken a lot. It means a lot. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence again, unsure of where to go from there. Eventually, Bard spoke, “the sun is about to come up. Would you like breakfast?”

Thranduil accepted, they ate omelettes and toast and glanced at each other like a whole new world opened up. 

(Later, Bard tells Sigrid about Thranduil’s memory. He gets two words in before she says “I know.”)

That was Day 23.


End file.
